


Enter the Games

by resentmentface



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Crossover, Death, Gen, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resentmentface/pseuds/resentmentface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment Kurt Hummel heard his stepbrother's name being called out at the Reaping, he knew what he had to do. Hunger Games/Glee crossover, Finn/Kurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enter the Games

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was originally posted in three parts over at my Tumblr (aglassofkurtscomeeverynight.tumblr.com), and I finally got it long enough to post. So... well, here it is! Obviously, as it's a Hunger Games AU, expect lots of death and violence and crap like that to come.

Finn's eyes are fixed to the TV screen, gut twisting sickly as he watches. There's a boy on it, chestnut brown hair and face streaked with dirt and blood. His eyes are terrified but determined as he brandishes a sword, his head darting from side to side to scan his surroundings. He is alert. He is on guard. He knows that any second could be his last.

And it pains Finn to see him that way.

Finn knows the boy. Knows him very well, in fact. The skinny boy from District 9 with barely a hope of surviving past the first couple of days. The boy who, somehow, miraculously scored a 10 in training and became an unexpected power once in the arena.

The boy Finn has known since grade school, who became family once their parents married. The boy that, as they grew closer and closer, Finn slowly began to fall in love with.

So yes. He knows him very well.

He gladly accepts his mother's simple offers of comfort, curling into her side as she threads her fingers through his hair. It's not much, not enough, but it's  _something_ , and that's better than nothing at all. He can see Burt, his stepfather, sitting on the armchair to his left, face blank as he watches his son on the screen, and Finn suddenly feels ashamed for the tears on his own cheeks. The back of his hand sweeps them away, he sniffles, and looks to the screen again. The boy has his back pressed to a tree, his eyes wild. This boy is almost foreign to Finn, he thinks, someone he barely recognizes, but he knows it's still his Kurt. He knows it, and he wants nothing more than for him to be safe.

And it's at that exact moment that Finn sees the arrow pierce through his chest.

* * *

Neither of them expected it. Reaping day had seemed like any other Reaping day for the two boys, filled with anxiety, filled with nerves, but no more than any other year. Both knew what they were up against, knew what odds they had of being picked. It seemed like a relatively slim chance for both of them – the Reaping fell dead in between their birthdays as always, with Kurt turning seventeen a mere month before, and Finn sixteen for only a month longer. Which meant six entries for Kurt, and only five for Finn. Neither had even taken any tesserae, their parents adamantly against raising the odds of being chosen like that and instead finding other ways to survive. So, relatively, they were safe, especially when up against others with so many more entries.

And for Kurt, he was not only relieved by his own odds, but by Finn's as well. That one slip he had that Finn didn't could make all the difference. It eased a bit of Kurt's nerves, just the slightest bit, because the less of a chance Finn had of being picked, the less he had to worry about the other teen.

He honestly hadn't even considered that Finn would be in danger of being chosen. If it would be either of them, it would be himself, he'd thought.

But standing in the square in his Reaping clothes hearing "Finn Hudson" being read from the slip of paper, he thought maybe he should have worried just a little bit more.

He'd met Finn's eyes through the crowd – the other boy was on the verge of crying, Kurt could tell, and he looked like a cornered animal. He took a step back until someone pushed him towards the Peacekeepers, and after a split second's hesitation, he approached them. He kept his head up as best as he could, trying to keep a strong face, but Kurt could tell how flimsy that façade was, could see the trembling in his hands and the tension in his body.

And when his mind finally caught up with everything, Kurt stepped forward, too.

"Finn!" He cried, all eyes turning to him in an instant as he darted towards his stepbrother. This wasn't allowed, he knew it. Knew he would be restrained, could even be shot for this. But he couldn't help himself, feet instead leading him towards his stepbrother and bringing him to his side before the Peacekeepers could even react. Finn's eyes were wider now, trembling growing in intensity, and he stayed frozen as Kurt's arms slipped around his waist. "Finn… Finn,  _no_ ," Kurt rambled, feeling hands on his shoulders, prying him off of Finn. He could tell that Finn was trying to keep it together, to not let the tears in his eyes fall, because crying makes a Tribute look weak, and looking weak means dying.

"Kurt. Kurt, let go.  _Please_." Finn had said, voice cracking, and he didn't let go, just tightened his hold around Finn's waist. The Peacekeepers pried him off eventually, though, fingers slipping and the warmth of Finn's body disappearing, and the stark reality that they were essentially taking Finn away to be slaughtered prodded him to his next action.

"Wait! I volunteer!"

Everyone had frozen at his outburst, Kurt himself included. Rarely did someone volunteer as Tribute, the title being nothing more than a death sentence in most cases. But Kurt found himself standing in the center of a thousand sets of eyes, chest heaving as the Peacekeepers released him. Instead, they marched towards Finn, and Kurt's eyes had met his in that split second between confusion and realization, but once it dawned on him, his eyes shot open. He began to bolt towards Kurt, hands outstretched, a string of barely intelligible words leaving his mouth, but the Peacekeepers intercepted him, hooking arms through his and dragging him back to his designated spot, and leaving Kurt standing alone between the two remaining guards. His knees knocked together, weakened from nerves, barely able to hold him up as he'd approached the stage, and the only thing that echoed in his ears as he did so were Finn's cries.

The rest of the Reaping went by in a surreal blur for Kurt. The escort – a new woman this year, one he could barely even remember the name of – introduced him and the girl tribute to the crowd, they shook hands, the Treaty was read, the anthem blared. Just like any other Reaping. Just like any other year. And if Kurt focused hard enough, he could almost convince himself that he was just as safe as any other year, too. That he was back in the crowd, his parents and Finn at his side, having escaped being chosen once more.

But he hadn't. He couldn't trick himself into thinking that as the escort led him away. It was real. This entire thing was real. He was going to be in the Hunger Games.

* * *

He stared out the dingy window overlooking the buildings of District 9, still in his Reaping clothes. Reality still hadn't sunk in for him. He felt numb, as if his mind hadn't quite caught up with his body yet. It was strange, but… Really, numbness was probably better.

He tugged at the sleeves of his button-up shirt, feeling the soft fabric – so unlike his normal wardrobe, consisting of articles so heinous they should hardly be called clothing – between his fingertips. He felt suffocated in the outfit, about ready to burst at the seams, but before he could, something else interrupted his thoughts.

The door swung open with a bang, heavy footsteps bringing their owner into the room, and before Kurt even knew what was happening he was being engulfed in a hug, arms winding around his waist and a face burying itself into the crook of his neck. He could hear choked sobs, feel the damp tears pooling against his skin, and as he stroked the boy's back, it finally occurred to him who it was. "Finn," He whispered, hand reaching up to thread through his hair, grounding him to the moment, keeping him there with Finn, right then, nothing else but the two of them and an embrace.  _One final meeting_ , Kurt thought morbidly. He had no chance at winning the Hunger Games and he knew it, so accepting that now rather than later was probably a good thing.

"Kurt, I can't… you can't go," Finn cried, his voice so soft and so hurt that Kurt could barely handle it. "'m not gonna let you go. You  _can't_."

Kurt took a deep breath, willing the tears hovering in his eyes to not fall. He buried his face against Finn's throat, eyes squeezed shut, willing himself not to cry. He couldn't leave the room with a tear-streaked face – he'd look weak, wouldn't have a chance at getting sponsors – so he bit down on his tongue, hoping the pain would distract him. "I have to." He whispered, voice cracking. "They'll be here soon, I have to, Finn."

Finn didn't reply, not right away. His grip tightened around Kurt's body, his chest heaved, and he whimpered, but he didn't speak. Kurt was glad for that, needed the few seconds of silence to gather himself, keep his emotions in check. "Why'd you volunteer, Kurt?" He whined like a petulant child. "It should be  _me_  going and not you."

"Don't you say that, Finn. I had to do this. I couldn't let you go. I couldn't… couldn't live with myself if I did."

Finn sniffled, nuzzling even closer to Kurt without even knowing it. "But… You're so little, Kurt. They're going to use that against you."

"I'm small, yes, but I can use that to my advantage. They won't see me as a threat. But with you, they would. You're big, you're strong. They'd want you out of the way as soon as possible and you know it."

He knew he had Finn there, because it was true – he was strong enough to be a threat, but not skilled enough to be of use to the Careers. They wouldn't want him, Kurt was sure of it, and he'd be dead before he knew what happened. And there was the thing Kurt left unspoken – Finn's inherent clumsiness. That alone would probably be his downfall, and just another reason why Kurt couldn't let him go. Not that he stood any better a chance, really – sure, he was handy with a knife, and he was  _fast_ , but he'd watched enough of the Games over the years to know that any Career could take him out in an instant.

But at least Finn would be safe. That was all that mattered.

Not long after, Kurt's dad and Finn's mom joined the two of them, both puffy-eyed from crying. They didn't say anything, just wrapped their arms around Kurt and cried, holding him for what would most likely be the last time. Kurt rubbed his dad's back and rested his head against Carole's shoulder, not shedding a tear no matter how much he wanted to. But instead, he let the numbness take over, closing his eyes and thinking of anything else except for what was happening.

He had an hour with them, he knew it, but it felt like seconds before the Peacekeepers were back, leading his family away from him. He held Carole's hand, gave his father one last hug, and was faced with Finn for the last time.

"You gotta win this thing," Finn whispered, eyes determined as they locked with Kurt's. "You have to. You have to come home. For mom, for your dad, for me. Okay?"

Kurt nods, and it was the closest he came to tears the entire time. He pressed a kiss to Finn's forehead, stroking his hair and whispering a soft goodbye.

And then they were led out of the room, heavy wooden doors slamming and echoing the finality of the moment.

Kurt didn't let himself cry until that night on the train. There, he cried himself to sleep, clutching his blanket to his chest and wishing more than anything that he was back home.


End file.
